


Esse Quam Videri

by TidalDragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Community: HPFT, Gen, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:32:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6706339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TidalDragon/pseuds/TidalDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All I want is everything you take for granted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Esse Quam Videri

I can hear them talking about me while they think I’m sleeping. I fake a groan, hating the low sound that comes out as I roll over. Their eyes burn into my back for a moment, but the feeling quickly passes. For all their years of training they’re no more observant than my mother and father ever were while I was busy perfecting the move at home.  
  
  
“The parents still haven’t responded…” the woman said.  
  
  
“So what…” the young man said. “He’s seventeen so–”  
  
  
“We don’t need consent for drug users anyway.” It was the gruff older healer again.  
  
  
“But sir, we do have an obligation–“  
  
  
“We have an obligation to heal and release. And you have an obligation to do what you’re told. Prepare more restorative draughts and administer them as scheduled.”  
  
  
I heard two reluctant sighs before their footfalls followed his out of the room.  
  
  
Opening my eyes, I stared out the window. Unlike when I’d visited any of my relatives here – Uncle Harry after the Reductor Attack, my aunts when they were having my cousins – they hadn’t bothered to make my view special. Given my chief healer’s attitude he very well may have had the charms removed.  
  
  
No distractions left the substance of his commentary to worry about though. They thought I was a drug user? Try as I might I couldn’t remember what had happened after quaffing the potion. Where had I been found? Had I even made it out of the bathroom?  
  
  
Pushing myself up and swinging my legs off the edge of my bed took a little more effort than I’d expected, but I managed it, and I found myself looking down at my feet dangling out from the end of the hospital gown. Suddenly my breath caught in my chest. I’d forgotten the most important questions of all. _Who_ had found me? And when?  
  
  
“You really shouldn’t be up,” the woman’s voice said gently.  
  
  
I frowned, starting to stand. Almost instantly I was light-headed, but just as fast there was a hand on my shoulder.  
  
  
“Sit down. Your body isn’t ready yet. You’ve been through a lot.”  
  
  
Begrudgingly I complied, easing myself back onto the bed so as not to bunch the gown underneath me.  
  
  
She extended one well-manicured hand toward me. “I’m Melody Falwell. I’m one of the healers assigned to help you. How much can you remember?”  
  
  
I shook it. It was soft. I wondered how she managed it. “Nothing really,” I lied. “I was at school, going to the bathroom. And then I woke up here.”  
  
  
As I heard scribbling I tried to peek around her.  
  
  
“Up!” she barked behind her. A Quick-Quotes Quill and accompanying pad of paper suddenly popped up over one shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. Checking to see that no one else had entered the room, she leaned in conspiratorially, “It’s the budget cuts to our ward,” she muttered. “Less nurses now and more of these cheap things. They don’t even come with proper levitation charms.”  
  
  
I eyed her warily. She hadn’t said much that I’d heard, but then she’d hardly come to my defense either. And there was no telling where this would end up, even if her heart was in the right place.  
  
  
“Look…I know you don’t really want to talk to me. I understand why.”  
  
  
I tried to force myself to remain calm.  
  
  
“It isn’t the black mark it used to be. I promise. If you cooperate and we can successfully discharge you then there won’t be a notation to your student record so long as you don’t relapse.”  
  
  
I mustered a laugh. “That doesn’t really take care of my family does it? My friends? I mean…you know who my parents are obviously. And my aunts and uncles. And…”  
“It doesn’t. But you’ll need their support.”  
  
  
“I’m fine. I probably passed out from stress. I was made Head Boy this year and it’s just…it’s been a lot.”  
  
  
She looked down at me over the top of her stylish frames. “I’m trying to _help_ you. We’re keeping you stable – for now – with restorative draughts.” She paused. “Merlin, I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but your body isn’t responding as we’d expect. We need to know what you took. Well…what you’ve _been_ taking. And for how long.”  
  
  
I smiled inside. Did that make me mental? They needed to know to treat me, but I was delighted that they didn’t. It meant no one did. They must’ve not found me for at least a few hours.  
  
  
“Wit-Sharpening Potion,” I lied again. “My new responsibilities have gotten me backed up on school work so I wanted to pull an all-nighter to catch up on essays – Charms, Muggles, Transfig.”  
  
  
She looked away for a moment. “You and I both know that’s not true.”  
  
  
I doubled-down. “It _is_ true. Be an awful boring thing to lie about.”  
  
  
“This recently there’d be traces in your system.”  
  
  
I looked away, absent-mindedly tucking a rogue curl behind my ear.  
  
  
“Perhaps the truth isn’t so boring.”  
  
  
After realizing I wasn’t going to respond to that statement either, she fluffed my pillow, got me laid back down and left. Smart woman, though maybe not smart enough.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
By day three I was plotting my escape. The idiots were no closer to a solution and now I had my parents on me every minute and Vic bombarding me with updates on her rushed trip back from Europe with Teddy. Louis was less irritating, though the fact he’d sent more than one owl too meant he didn’t escape my ire either. I had to get out of here before that specialist arrived from Berlin.  
  
  
Healer Klaus Holtzer. I’d heard his name so many times by now it was haunting my dreams. Supposedly he’d have all the answers for why “there are no metabolic clues as to the substance I ingested.” I’d been lucky so far that they were overthinking it, though slightly less fortunate that they wouldn’t come off their fixation on an external cause. I’d have been back at Hogwarts as soon as I could walk if I weren’t a Weasley. Oh how times have changed since Dad was in school. And Klaus Holtzer had probably memorized the restricted section books I read before I started using. Probably in his first year of…whatever they called healer school there anyway.  
  
  
Using. Had I heard it so many times it was starting to sink in or was it true? It wasn’t like what I was doing mind-altering stuff. Far from it. It was my mind – who I was – I wanted to keep. Of course _they_ would see it differently. For me the unity I got from it was natural – as close to it as I could achieve anyway. For them… I shook my head. That’s why I couldn’t confess.  
  
  
A hand ruffled my hair. “Doing okay, Dom?”  
  
  
“Yeah. If they’d let me leave.”  
  
  
Dad frowned. “You know they can’t do that. Not until they know what happened for sure. You’re really not helping from what I hear…”  
  
  
“Do you just believe everything they tell you?”  
  
  
He shrugged. “What choice do I have?”  
  
  
I stayed silent. His hand moved from my head to my shoulder.  
  
  
“Look at me Dom.”  
  
  
I refused.  
  
  
“Dom…”  
  
  
“Fine.” I turned my head.  
  
  
“We’re going to do _everything_ we can to help you, okay? Just trust us.”  
  
  
“What if I can’t?”  
  
  
“What are you talking about?” He looked genuinely surprised. “No matter what you’re taking…they’ve told us they can help. That we can help. Support. Therapy. Scheduled potions until you’re ready…”  
  
  
“I can’t trust you because you don’t trust me,” I snapped.  
  
  
With a heavy sigh, he pulled away. I could see the hurt in his eyes, but how could I stop it? The risk was too high. “We’ll get through this Dom. We’re Weasleys. We always do.”  
  
  
As he left I watched the healers assigned to my case talking to him. Patting him on the back as if he was the one struggling. Mom scowled at me from through the glass, the dark side of her protective streak turning on me for the first time.  
  
  
“Mister Weasley, is it?” an unfamiliar voice interrupted.  
  
  
I grimaced. “Who wants to know?”  
  
  
A man with blond hair chuckled as he entered the room. His clothes were odd by wizarding standards, a three-piece grey suit, complete with gold chain that hearkened by to muggle business attire from generations ago, but judging by his formal greeting I could only assume he was the foreign specialist I’d been dreading. Perhaps this is what they wore in Germany? Though he didn’t _sound_ German. And he was…young.  
  
  
He smiled. “Not what you’re used to, I suppose? Though this,” he gestured to his suit, “so rarely is. At least in magical communities.”  
  
  
“You don’t–“  
  
  
“Have an accent? No…I was born in Britain. My father immigrated here shortly before the Second Wizarding War to join my mother. I chose to return to the continent for purely professional reasons.”  
  
  
“So what spells are _you_ going to cast on me? They’ve tried everything already you know. They just won’t give up and admit they’re wrong so I can go back to school.”  
  
  
“Cast spells on you? I wouldn’t conceive of it.” He produced several odd instruments from inside the bag he’d been carrying with him. “I may have to use these, though I prefer not to.”  
  
  
“What are they?”  
  
  
“Muggle equipment. Did I forget to mention being muggleborn?”  
  
  
I eyed the increasing array warily.  
  
  
“They won’t hurt you. Well…maybe just a prick at first, but completely reparable.”  
  
  
“What do they do?”  
  
  
“Analyze your blood. Most healers are too proud to admit it, but there is often evidence left behind that magic alone cannot adequately detect. Muggle medicine, believe it or not, can sometimes do the trick.”  
  
  
I crossed my arms and frowned.  
  
  
“No need to pout. If you’ll talk, we can save a lot of time.”  
  
  
I glanced outside. It was nearly dark. Outlasting him seemed possible in light of the travel arrangements I’d overheard the day before and the rest restrictions my own healers had put on me.  
  
  
“I’ve already told them everything. What’s left to talk about?”  
  
  
“Anything. Likes, dislikes. Post-Hogwarts plans. Even witches if you wish – I’m only human after all.”  
  
  
The first three sounded like a bore, but the fourth piqued my interest. If I played it right it could be an opportunity to conceal the truth with honesty instead of lies.  
  
  
“Fine,” I smirked. “Ever looked at _Wizard’s Eye_?”  
  
  
He laughed. “I’ve been your age.”  
  
  
“Recently?”  
  
  
He shook his head before looking down. “I lead a busy life. I’ll admit to maintaining more than a passing familiarity.”  
  
  
“Karina Isayeva?”  
  
  
“She’s very fair. And blonde, yes?”  
  
  
I nodded.  
  
  
“Beautiful. Objectively, anyway. I prefer the Irish lasses.” He stared up toward the ceiling. “Any of your classmates compare to your resplendent Russian?”  
  
  
My mind flickered to Ainsley for a moment. I blushed before I could stop it.  
  
  
Holtzer wagged a finger. “I think I’ve struck on something after all…”  
  
  
“She’s in my Charms class. Fitting I guess, right?”  
  
  
“Does ‘she’ have a name?”  
  
  
I soured. “What’s it matter?”  
  
  
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just interested. Those days aren’t _so_ distant for me.”  
  
  
I flicked my eyes to my parents standing outside the glass and made a show of locking my lips with a key. It was lucky neither of them looked in at that particular moment as they’d have been likely to kill me. No doubt they or someone else in the family was bankrolling this special visit.  
  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
  
Holtzer stood up, bending down to put away the equipment he’d made such a show of unpacking. Well, that was much quicker than I’d imagined. I smiled.  
  
  
“Are you telling them I can go back to school now?”  
  
  
He moved the full bag to the chair near the door, setting it down with a thud. “No, Dominic, I’m not.”  
  
  
“What?”  
  
  
“I’m not a metabolic specialist from Berlin. I work in the addiction and adjustment department here at St. Mungo’s.”  
  
  
“You…you lied to me!”  
  
  
“Unfortunately necessary on occasion. Almost as a rule in situations like yours.”  
  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shouted.  
  
  
My parents and the healers outside were looking in now, but Holtzer raised a hand to keep them at bay.  
  
  
“In situations of suspected substance abuse and addiction, Ministry Statute 78A-591 authorizes the performance of non-consensual legilimency for the purpose of diagnosis by an individual duly licensed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the performance of invasive interrogation techniques. The chief healer assigned to your case contacted me after you persisted in refusing to admit the source of your symptomatology and engaged in a persistent course of deception despite being advised that your condition was not improving.”  
  
  
“That’s…that’s…you’re making that up!”  
  
  
“I’m afraid not my dear. I am sorry for having to resort to it, but your condition necessitated it.”  
  
  
“I don’t _have_ a _condition_.”  
  
  
He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “No, of course not. I’m not referring to that. I’m referring to your physical health.”  
  
  
I blanched. “Are you going to tell them?”  
  
  
“Ministry Statute 78A-592 is quite clear on that point. Being as you are of age, albeit narrowly, I can only speak to your healers. And I can only reveal to them the source of any physical problems from which you are suffering and my evaluation of your addiction status. Then I’m to be obliviated.”  
  
  
“Obliviated?”  
  
  
“Of course. You’ve ended up harming yourself, but there’s been no crime committed and thus no justifiable need for me to retain what I know of your mind. So that will be purged.”  
  
  
“But what about–“  
  
  
“Me? Why do you think I’m so young? They keep us on a strict obliviation count. You’ll be my last actually before I’m transitioned into traditional healing or law enforcement.”  
  
  
He turned to leave the room.  
  
  
“What am I supposed to do?”  
  
  
“Live, my dear,” he said as if it were the most obvious idea in the world.  
  
  
“But–“  
  
  
“Live,” he repeated. “I won’t pretend it will be easy, especially if you should choose to live in truth, but I’ll leave something for you. Perhaps you’ll see that it doesn’t have to be the nightmare you think.”  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The next day, my sister came to see me. She looked stunned to see me up and about when she hustled in, her flushed face and loose hair leaving her about as bedraggled as I’d ever seen her.  
  
  
“They said–“  
  
  
“That was two days ago, Vic.”  
  
  
Her eyes dropped.  
  
  
“Hey,” I started, “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you did everything you could.”  
  
  
Brushing her long hair out of her face, she looked around quickly.  
  
  
“Where’s the cot?”  
  
  
“There is no cot.”  
  
  
“I can see that…but I mean, where are Mum and Dad?”  
  
  
I laughed. “Did they seriously not tell you?”  
  
  
She shook her head, raising an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
  
“Merlin…” I looked upward. “That’s _so_ rich.”  
  
  
“ _What_ Dom?”  
  
  
“They’re gone. They’re paying the bill and then, you know, that’s that. In case you haven’t heard, I’m a freak.” I sat down on the edge of my bed, staring away from her.  
  
  
“What the _hell_ are you talking about?”  
  
  
I sniffed. “They brought me here for Polyjuice Poisoning.”  
  
  
“Polyju– But you’d have to take it…Merlin, Dom…at least weekly over a long period of time. Shorter if you were taking it more I guess, but…I don’t understand. I mean, you’re Head Boy. Did the other boys actually convince you to get in on a prank or something?”  
  
  
I stood up. “No.”  
  
  
“Then…why? And who were you being?”  
  
  
This was the moment. The end. She was the one I’d shared a room with until we were six. The one I’d always played with until she went to Hogwarts. The one I _couldn’t_ lose, but the one I’d betrayed the worst of all.  
  
  
“Dom?”  
  
  
I bit my lip, hard, refocusing on her – and the memories of her – to keep from crying.  
  
  
“You.”  
  
  
She stared. She hadn’t run yet. Why hadn’t she run? She hadn’t screamed yet. Why hadn’t she screamed?  
  
  
“Why?”  
  
  
“Because…” Merlin. I’d never gotten a chance to actually explain it to anyone. “Because I’m a girl, Vic.”  
  
  
She chuckled nervously. “Okay, Dom, you can–“  
  
  
“Don’t,” I snapped, sitting back down and burying my face in my hands. “I just…I was tired of the struggle, the act I had to live every _fucking_ day. Knowing who I really was and then hearing my voice, looking in the mirror and not…not being _me_. So I brewed all summer, storing and hiding and protecting. And then you were moving out and I realized – I don’t want to be someone I’m not. And if there’s anyone… _anyone_ who’d be closest to what I _should_ see…it would be you, right?”  
  
  
For a while it was quiet. My heart thumped in my chest bum-bum bum-bum bum-bum louder than I ever remembered, but I knew she was still there. I could hear her, only faintly, breathing in and out in the otherwise empty room. Then I felt her arm wrap around me. My bed, like it had so many times before when we were young, sagged as she sat down next to me.  
  
  
“Mom and Dad just left you here?”  
  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
  
“Louis?”  
  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
  
“You can stay with me and Teddy. As long as you need.”  
  
  
“I’ve got to go back to school. Whatever’s going to happen to me there. I have to finish.”  
  
  
“I know. But you don’t have to rush. And after…you know, if things haven’t gotten better at home…”  
  
  
“Thanks,” I said, looking at her again for the first time since my confession.  
  
  
She pulled me tighter. “Anything for my little sister,” she whispered. She paused then, and I could tell she was waiting for my reaction. “I’ll help you too…if you want. Everything you have to learn.”  
  
  
“I’ve been watching,” I said defensively.  
  
  
“I’m sure you have. But there’s stuff you haven’t…stuff you _can’t_ see too. Stuff you have to live.”  
  
  
I sighed. “I know. Good and bad. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”  
  
  
Finally she released me, smiling broadly once again, the way I’d always remembered. “Alright then. So what do we call you? Who do you want to be?”  
  
  
I grabbed the quill and parchment the healers had left in case I needed anything. Slowly I wrote, tracing in the far more elegant script I’d practiced for years in private moments the echoes of my old identity. Finally, I arrived at the last letter, making sure, as I’d dreamed of since Vic and I had practices our signatures under Grandma Molly’s watchful eyes, to close the “c” and carry on.  
  
  
I handed it over.  
  
  
“Call me Dominique.”  
  
  
 **A/N: This was my first attempt at writing a non-cisgender character, let alone from a non-cis perspective and I’m very grateful for our wonderful challenge host because without the challenge I don’t know that I would’ve taken it upon myself to do this.**  
  
 **  
What I tried to accomplish here was to make it a bit mysterious (despite the challenge making it rather obvious I guess) what the deal was with Dominique being in St. Mungo’s in an effort also to explore the immense challenge I imagine most individuals who identify as genderqueer face when coming out. I also wanted to use the mystery to feather in behavioral/mannerism clues and explore both how someone in the wizarding world who identifies as trans might try to alleviate their own struggles with their bodies and physical selves not matching their gender identity and how wizarding society might deal with such scenarios (using the different healers).**  
  
  
 **I also didn’t want everything to be hunky-dory because whether you’re cis or non-cis life so rarely is and so I wanted to include disparate reactions among family to Dominique coming out too. I hope in trying to do all the foregoing Dominique’s voice and emotions didn’t get lost and that the portrayal was accurate – please let me know in a review if you stop by to read! And tell me who you think the other non-cis character in the story is.**


End file.
